


Accidental Revenge

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-07
Updated: 2010-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-02 17:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: graphic violence - Warning
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: A discovery on a deserted planet brings an unexpected encounter with an old enemy.





	Accidental Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Spoilers: Fair game
> 
> For more stories visit: www.pantherslair.webs.com

Jack stood inspecting his surroundings as the stargate disgorged the rest of his team. The sand covered floor, stone pillars and musty smell of a building long ago abandoned immediately brought back memories.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think we were on Abydos.” Daniel commented from where he stood behind him.

“I was just thinking that.” Jack waved absently at him, his attention still on the stone walls surrounding them. “Just a bit more…”

“Well used.” Daniel provided. “Probably older.”

“Right. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been home in years.” Jack said descending the steps from the gate’s platform.

“Indeed.” Teal’c added, inspecting the ground. “The sand on the floor has been undisturbed for some time.”

Jack glanced up at the ceiling, the steady rainfall of dust and bits of rock catching his attention. The light patter of debris falling from a building that was probably too old to withstand the vibration of many more gate activations provided a soundtrack to their conversation. For the moment it didn’t look as if anything was going to come tumbling down on them, but on a foreign planet one could never tell when the next earthquake, tornado or gale force wind was due. It reminded him a bit too much of Heliopolis for his liking. Broken down building, things falling from the ceiling right before things started falling through the floor. Yeah, they needed to hurry this up a bit.

“Let's get to it, kids.” He announced. “This place won’t stay standing forever. Teal’c you’re with Daniel. Carter you’re with me.” 

He didn’t really expect to find much of anything in the way of useful technology. Who knew, maybe they’d get lucky. Most likely this was going to turn out to be a “Daniel friendly” planet. One they would no doubt have trouble dragging him away from when the time came. Jack braced himself for the argument that was sure to happen the moment he announced that the exploration part of their tour had come to an end and it was time to pack it in. Some things were just inevitable.

 

xxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel immediately headed across the well-lit room, sunlight filtering in through cutouts in the walls. He inspected the pillars for signs of writing as they wandered, finding nothing, but bare stone. The lack of hieroglyphs seemed a bit odd in what looked to have been a temple at one time. He supposed it was possible the place had been built for something other than a center of worship for the masses. The goa’uld would certainly have no need for advertisements on the walls if there was nobody around to be impressed by them. Tucking away the mental note, he continued his search, leading Teal’c into the shadows as he followed a hall that grew darker the further they traveled from the main room. He could make out the outline of several sconces on the wall, most likely designed for holding torches, but the torches themselves were gone leaving the place bathed in shadow. Finally turning on his flashlight he discovered a set of stone steps hidden in the darkness, one that disappeared down into the belly of the structure. He glanced back at Teal’c who only tilted his head in reply to the unspoken question of whether they should explore. Teal’c would follow where he led.

Cautiously they descended the stairs, their boots scuffing on the stone, a distinct lack of echo swallowing the sound almost immediately. The deeper they went, the cooler and mustier the air became until Daniel could almost make out a hint of mildew. Trailing a hand along the stone wall as they followed the curved staircase, he peered into the darkness, straining to see ahead of his flashlight’s beam. It certainly had the look and feel of a dungeon. If that was the case it would also explain the lack of carvings. No point decorating the walls for prisoners.

The stairs ended in a moderately sized rectangular room with a low ceiling barely tall enough to allow Teal’c to stand without stooping. Obviously the place wasn’t built for Jaffa. They would never have been able to maneuver down here comfortably. Ok, so maybe not a dungeon. The lack of chains and shackles attached to the walls made it obvious it wasn’t a holding cell; that and the fact that unlike the room above, this one was covered in hieroglyphs. Daniel immediately unfastened the clasps on his vest allowing his backpack to fall to the floor before crouching beside it and burrowing through its pockets. He glanced from the walls to the stash of supplies he was digging through and back again, speculating aloud on the writings, already making notes in his head before finally managing to unearth a pen and notebook. Scribbling furiously for a moment or two he laid the notebook aside long enough to attempt to capture the images on film.

“It makes no sense that there are hieroglyphs down here in the dark, but nothing upstairs.” He commented. “Why hide them?” He asked, squinting into the view finder of his camcorder. “It’s too dark in here, Teal’c.” he groused in frustration. “Can you shine your light on this section? I want to try to get it on tape.”

“Do you recognize these symbols, DanielJackson?”

“Yes, actually I do. They’re Mayan.” He said, one eye closed as he squinted into the camcorder. “It’s an ancient civilization in South America.” He added, his speech slowing as the characters on the wall captured more of his attention. “They, uh, used to be a major power, but died out for reasons nobody really understands. The people still exist, but the, uh, culture is all, but extinct. Swallowed up by the Spanish invasion.”

Filming as much as he could in the dimly lit room he tucked the camcorder in his pocket and stood inspecting the hieroglyphs. Fingers gently resting on familiar figures, muttering to himself as he began piecing things together, Daniel was soon lost in his own world. 

“DanielJackson.” Teal’c called from the far wall. “You must see this.” 

Daniel’s head reluctantly turned toward the sound, tearing him away from the writings.

“What?”

“It would appear there is a door here.”

“Can you open it?” he asked, mild curiosity sweeping away much of the annoyance of being interrupted in mid-thought.

“Indeed.” Teal’c assured him, pointing to an oval, slightly glowing, orange orb attached to the wall.

“Ok, that looks familiar.” Daniel frowned at that orb. “Uh, Jack…Teal’c found something.” he announced into the radio clipped to his vest, his eyes glued to the door.

“Something like…?” Came the reply.

“Like a door…with a goa’uld doorknob.” He answered.

“Where are you?”

“Downstairs.”

“We haven’t run across any stairs, Daniel. Where are you?”

“Right side of the main chamber, down the steps.” He elaborated.

“We’ll be right there.”

He stood for a few minutes inspecting the door before finally deciding there was nothing to see until Jack and Sam arrived and heading back to work on the wall, pushing away the niggling concept that the glowing orb was a bad omen. So one of those things had been stuck to the wall beside the room where they’d found the Linvers. It didn’t mean anything. It was just another goa’uld door knob. There were probably thousands of them scattered around the universe. Not a big deal. So why was the fact that there was one here giving him the creeps? 

It was several long moments later before he finally heard the sound of Jack and Sam on the stairs, the staircase growing brighter by degrees with their approach, flashlight beams wavering erratically as they moved.

“Well this is cozy.” Jack announced as they appeared in the room.

“Something like that.” Daniel commented. “They’ve, uh, got a few hieroglyphs here.” He added, waggling a finger toward the wall. “No idea why they keep them in the basement, though.”

“Any idea what this place was for.” Sam asked, glancing at the figures while Jack headed for the door.

“Not a clue.” Daniel replied. 

“Head’s up, kids.” Jack’s voice floated across the room seconds before Teal’c swiped his hand across the orange orb that served as a censor to the door.

Immediately a section of the wall rumbled open, Jack and Teal'c's weapons at the ready. When nothing came flying out at them Daniel and Sam joined them to peer inside the dark room. 

“What do you see?” Sam asked in a near whisper.

“Dark.” Jack replied.

“It appears to be a laboratory of some kind.” Teal’c replied, shining his flashlight inside. 

“Think there are lights in this place?” Jack asked.

Teal’c responded by stepping into the room. Immediately the space was awash in brilliant light, the sudden illumination making all four team members take a step back squinting and blinking.

“I guess that would be a ‘yes’.” Jack said.

“Wow.” Sam replied, stepping into the room with Teal’c.

“Ok, so this is obviously new.” Daniel commented as he too ventured inside.

The room, nearly as big as the one they’d just left, seemed to be cut from a completely different time and place than the rest of the structure. The walls were a smooth, almost translucent gray lined with glass shelves containing bottles of various colored liquids, empty vials and a plethora of complicated looking equipment. Certainly nothing any of them could identify. In the center of the space was an empty metal work table lined with a narrow trough, its surface easily big enough to hold an average sized human. Rounding out the display was a small collection of goa’uld tablets stacked neatly on a counter at the back of the room. 

Everything spoke of technology far beyond Earth’s, and certainly far beyond whoever had built and once lived in the building surrounding it.

“Any idea who might live here?” Jack asked as he wandered around the space with the rest of them, carefully avoiding touching anything.

“These might tell us something.” Daniel said picking up one of the tablets and reluctantly handling the PTD that rested beside them.

“Careful Daniel.” Jack warned. “You remember how much fun we had the last time you played with one of those things.”

“Something tells me this place didn’t belong to the Linvres.” He said hoping to reassure both Jack and himself.

“No, but it looks to be right up Ma’chello’s alley so watch yourself. Everything in this place could be booby trapped.”

Daniel nodded and swiped the PTD over the tablet, shuddering slightly, and watching as the script mutated in his hands before settling again.

“What does it say?” Sam asked from beside him.

“It looks like notes from some kind of experiment.” He said, changing the script again with another wave of the PTD. “Doesn’t say exactly what they were experimenting with, though.”

“Does it give the evil scientist’s name?” Jack asked.

“Not yet.” Another swipe and another change of the text.

“Alright, let’s take them back with us.” Jack suggested. “You can study them later. Anybody see anything worth sticking around for?”

“No, but shouldn’t we at least try to find out who was using this place?” Sam suggested.

“Hopefully the tablets will tell us that. If not, we can come back and have another look around, but I don’t want to risk being stuck here without back up if the Three Bears come home early.”

Teal’c cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Goldilocks and the Three Bears.” Jack explained. “You haven’t heard this one?”

“I have not.”

“I’ll tell you on the way back to the gate. Ok kids, let’s wrap it up.”

“Wait, Jack, I think I found something else.” Daniel called from the far end of the room as the rest of the team headed for the exit.

“Something as in…?”

“This little thing. It’s flashing something. The display keeps changing." He leaned closer, frowning at the small, gold colored, triangular device for a moment before horrible understanding dawned. “Uh, Jack, I think it’s counting down.” He gaped, jerking his gaze from the display to the Colonel. “Go! Get out of here!”

“Carter, Teal'c, move it!” Jack ordered at the top of his lungs sending the two of them sprinting from the room, headed for the stairs. “Come on, Daniel!”

In the instant it took for Jack to spew the words from his mouth, Daniel felt as if time had suddenly slowed to a snail's pace. His mind moving faster than his body, he could see the anxiety in Jack's expression where he stood just outside the door, face contorted into a determined grimace, arm waving forcefully as if the shooing motion would cause Daniel to move faster. He was already navigating the obstacle course of tables and counters as quickly as he could, but somehow he knew it wasn't going to be fast enough. He didn't know how he knew, he just knew. The timer would go off and he would be blown to bits. He wanted to tell Jack to go on without him or at the very least get away from the door, but there was no time. Sprinting toward the opening, hoping he was wrong, he made it to the far end of the worktable when everything came apart in a flash of light and a deafening roar. The force of the blast sent him sprawling to the ground and in an instant the once well-lit room was transformed into a death trap of flying glass; debris raining down in the dark. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack had hit the ground at the sound of the explosion, shielding his head with his arms. An instant later he was staring into the blackness that had once been a brightly-lit laboratory. This was not happening! Heart pounding wildly in his chest, he struggled to his feet.

“Daniel?!” he called, hands fumbling with his flashlight before finally managing to shine a beam inside.

“Where is he?” Sam asked materializing in the doorway, her own flashlight aimed into the gloom.

“There!” Jack exclaimed, seeing the unmoving form of the archaeologist sprawled on the floor near the table. “Daniel!” He bolted the short distance to him and began surveying the collection of debris scattered over the top of him. 

“Careful, Sir. There could be another one.” Sam warned as she ventured into the room, casting glances at the remaining debris. 

Jack crouching beside Daniel and began gingerly plucking pieces of glass and counter top from off his back. “I know that, Carter.” He replied. “Let’s just get him out of here.” He ordered moving the wreckage as quickly as he dared, climbing carefully over the prone form to work from the other side.

“I found a pulse, Sir!” Sam announced. “A little weak, but it’s there.”

“This place just had to be made of glass.” Jack groused, resisting the urge to dust off his hands knowing he was probably covered in slivers of the stuff. 

A dark patch on the floor near Daniel’s head caught his eye and he paused for a moment to shine his flashlight over the unconscious man, his scowl suddenly deepening. “Aw hell. Get the first aid kit.”

“Sir?”

“Go!” Jack barked glaring at her with an expression easily read even without the flashlight. 

In the dim light Jack could see a pool of blood forming just under Daniel’s jaw steadily leaking from a gash in his neck. He wasn’t a doctor, but he knew there were far too many sensitive and vital things in a person’s neck for bleeding to ever be a good thing, especially a puddle forming as quickly as this one was. In all honesty, as far as he was concerned any amount of blood leaking from one of his team members was an unwelcomed event, but this much was bad…very bad. 

“Teal’c, I need more light in here!” he bellowed, face toward the ceiling.

Instantly the large Jaffa appeared in the doorway. 

“Bring your light over here. Yeah, just like that. Carter, now!” he demanded as he whipped off his jacket and pulled the knife from the holster on his leg, cutting his T-shirt from collar to hem. Yanking it off, Jack wadded it up and held it to Daniel’s neck.

“Here, Sir.” Sam reappeared with the kit in hand.

“Give me a compress.” He ordered. “As soon as I get this bandaged we’re getting him out of here. Teal’c, think you can carry him?”

“I can.” He said without hesitation.

“Carter I want you to dial and start hollering the second you're heels down on the ramp, got it?”

“Yes, Sir.” She nodded, handing him the large, thick bandage covered with a wide strip of dark green adhesive.

“Get him cleaned off, will you?” Jack added, focusing his attention on Daniel’s neck, casting glances to his face seeking signs of consciousness and finding none.

Sam and Teal’c set to work hurriedly removing the last of the debris from him, some of the glass sticking in various parts of his body, blood oozing out when they gingerly removed it. Once Jack had the compress in place the three carefully rolled Daniel onto his back preparing to settle him in Teal’c’s arms and make a run for the gate. However, their plans ground to a halt a moment later.

“Damn it.” Jack snarled as they began to carefully maneuver Daniel onto his back. 

The small pool of blood he had been concerned about turned out to be only the tip of the iceberg, the rest of the damage coming into view when they rolled him over. The floor under Daniel was nothing, but a red stain, smeared by the movement. The first injury to come into view was a deep gash that dug into his left shoulder at the joint, Jack afraid to think how deep it went, unable to see much in the dim light and thankful for it. However, that paled in comparison to what they found when they finally settled Daniel on the floor. A large spear of glass was peeking out low on Daniel’s chest, angled just under his ribcage. The blood pouring from the wound coated his stomach and soaked into his pants and what was left of his shredded shirt. It left no question about the source of the large pool on the floor. 

“He's still breathing.” Sam announced in a croak that had her clearing her throat, trembling fingers again seeking a pulse at his neck.

“Damn it.” Jack groaned quietly to himself, eyes roaming the damage. “Anybody see anything else?” he asked, voice tight.

“I do not.” Teal’c replied solemnly.

“Should we take it out?” Sam asked.

“Negative. We’re moving him as is.”

“Sir, we can’t take him through the wormhole like this. It could kill him.”

“Well we’re sure as hell not leaving him here.” Jack snapped. “If you’ve got a plan I’m all ears.”

“I’ll get Janet.”

“We don’t have time.” Jack barked. “Teal’c take him.”

“Sir!” Sam snapped back, her eyes meeting his. “With all due respect we can’t transport him like this. Being pulled apart and put back together in the wormhole with a piece of glass sticking out of him could cut him to pieces.”

Jack paused for a moment, glaring back at her, his mind churning.

“Get a message to Hammond. Tell him to send a medical team in 30 seconds or less. That’s all the time we’ve got.”

“Yes, Sir.” She replied, on her feet sprinting toward the stairs before he'd finished his sentence.

“You got him?” Jack asked as Teal’c stood cradling Daniel in his arms, head and legs dangling as Teal'c attempted to hold him without shifting the large spear lodged in his chest.

“I do.”

“Let’s go.” Jack led the way to the stairs taking them two at a time, shining a light on the floor behind him for Teal’c. Moving only as fast as the Jaffa could go without jostling his cargo, they made their way back to the stargate to find Sam shutting down the wormhole.

“They’re on the way.” She assured them.

“How long?”

“30 seconds or less.” She repeated.

“Let's hope they make it.”

For several seconds they stood staring anxiously at the gate, the life slowly, but steadily trickling out of Daniel. Sam cast anxious glances at him while Jack stood, still bare chested, glaring at the unmoving ring, willing it to light up.

“Time?” Jack said.

“25 seconds.”

“Start dialing, Major.” He ordered. “If they’re not here in 30 we’re coming through."

Sam, knowing her argument would fall on determinedly deaf ears, immediately began punching in the coordinates for Earth. She had made it through all seven symbols with her hand hovering over the glowing dome in the center of the DHD when the gate came alive, an incoming wormhole lunged toward them. Before the ripples in the event horizon had settled Janet Frasier stepped through followed by three members of her medical staff and two soldiers carrying an empty stretcher. 

“Colonel.” She said approaching him with a large, plastic case gripped tightly in her hand. “Give me the basics.”

“Explosion downstairs and a whole lot of glass. Daniel was hit. He’s got a wound to his neck, one to his shoulder, and a chunk of glass in his stomach.”

“Anyone else hurt?”

“Negative.”

“Put him down over here, Teal’c.” she instructed, motioning toward a place on the floor at the base of the gate platform. “You’re sure you’re alright?” she asked the very rattled Colonel who had blood on his hands and arms.

“It isn't mine.” He snapped, watching her inspecting his blood-covered limbs, but refusing to follow her gaze. 

“How much has he lost?” she asked, unperturbed by his tone of voice as she headed down the stairs and set her case on the floor beside Daniel, the rest of her team setting up around her.

“A lot.”

“One pint? Two?”

“I don’t do pints, Doc.” He said. “Enough to leave a puddle on the floor.”

“Take Wilson, show her.” Janet instructed.

“Can I help?” Sam asked.

“Not at the moment.” Janet replied, stethoscope in her ears. “Cut his shirt off.” She instructed one of her crew before pausing to listen to Daniel’s chest. “Holy mother of Moses." Janet swallowed when she finally got a clear look at the glass protruding from Daniel’s blood smeared skin. "Honestly, Daniel…” She sighed under her breath as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

“Pulse 74 over 38.” The nurse named Captain Braswell announced, leaving the blood pressure cuff in place on Daniel’s arm. “Respiration seven and shallow.” She added.

“I’d say a pint, Dr. Frazier.” Captain Wilson stated returning from the carnage downstairs, slightly out of breath from the jog. “Maybe a little more.”

"We've got blood leaking from the compress, Doctor." Braswell announced inspecting the bandage at Daniel's neck.

Frasier lifted it gingerly from his skin releasing a small trickle. “It's saturated." She said. "That's another half pint. I want a saline IV running wide open and give him the unit of plasma. He’s going to need it.”

“What’s the plan, Doc?” Jack asked, standing out of the way, but not too far.

“I’d rather not pull this thing out without an x-ray to tell me what I’m dealing with.” She admitted.

“But since we don’t have that option…?”

“We have no choice, but to do it here. Damn, I hate this.” She sighed. “Get me a surgical kit and the extra clamps.” She ordered. “I’m going to cut the compress and get to this bleeder.” 

Cutting the bandage at the adhesive strip, leaving the wide swath of green still stuck to Daniel’s neck, Janet worked quickly to find the nick in his artery without the benefit of surgery lights or suction. 

“Damn.” She muttered a few times under her breath as her frustration with the conditions grew. “Alright. I’ve got it for the moment. It’s still leaking a little, but it’ll have to do for now. Listen up, people.” She continued. “I’m going to work this object back out of his chest and when I do he’s going to lose a lot of blood very quickly.” She explained. “There's no telling what kind of internal damage he's got so we need to be quick, but careful. Wilson, call ahead to Hammond and tell him to have a crash cart and a gurney waiting in the gate room. If he codes we won’t have time to revive him here. And keep the gate open! Stand in it if you have to.

“You two be ready to make a mad dash with him.” She added, nodding toward her two stand in orderlies as Captain Wilson bounded up the steps and began dialing Earth.

“Braswell, I need your hands so get some gloves. Kindler, you’re on BP duty. Run a second line and set up the plasma. “ She instructed the rest of her staff before turning to the remaining members of SG-1 who were huddled in an anxious group a few steps away. “You three would be better off going back ahead of us. There’s nothing you can do here.”

“We’re fine.” Jack replied.

“It’s going to be bad, Colonel.” She warned. “Especially if he wakes up.” Sam’s eyes widened at the prospect and she swallowed, the blood draining from her face. “At least take your team up to the gate. I don’t need you in the way. That’s an order.” She added when Jack opened his mouth to protest.

Without another word he turned and headed up the platform steps, mouth set in a thin line, jaw clenched, Sam and Teal’c trailing behind him. Janet’s supplies in place and Daniel strapped firmly to the stretcher she set to work doing in the dirty, barren surroundings of an off world pyramid what she would much rather have been doing in a clean and well stocked operating room.

“Alright gang, here we go.” She said taking a deep breath to settle her nerves.

xxxxxxxxxx

Janet pulled the blanket up far enough to cover Daniel's lower half and rested a hand on one of the few unbandaged parts of his chest, his skin pale from loss of blood. He seemed warm enough, but she decided it probably wouldn't hurt to turn the heat up a notch or two. 

She had come close to losing him this time. Closer than she ever wanted to be again. Four hours of surgery and several pints of blood had finally seen him pieced back together, but not before he had scared the life out of her. His blood pressure had dropped through the floor more than once forcing her to pause in the middle of the procedure to see what it would do, defibrillator fully charged and standing by. Fortunately with nothing more than a little nudge of saline it had inched back up on its own. Still, even now it was lower than she would have liked. She had him on a steady flow of the clear liquid to help keep it elevated, but his heart seemed determined to work with only minimal effort. 

In all honesty, after what he'd been through she wasn't really surprised things weren't working quite right yet. He'd been in shock when they had transported him back through the gate, not to mention a bloody mess. She’d only had time to roughly stitch the biggest holes before transporting him back through the gate. Leaving clamps in place would have been nearly as dangerous as the chunk of glass when the wormhole pulled him apart and then stuck him back together. Unfortunately that left him leaking steadily from a dozen different wounds until they could get him back to Earth to finish the job. Janet was amazed he had survived to see the inside of the O.R. 

It was no secret Daniel could find trouble where no one else could, but at the same time he seemed to have a streak of luck that kept him in one piece if only by the thinnest thread. People more inclined to religion than science might have given credit to a guardian angel. Personally, she didn't really know what to call it, she was just grateful it was there. If not for angels or luck or whatever she would have been piecing him back together for viewing at his funeral. 

Janet pushed the thought aside and checked his IV, heart monitor and ventilator connection satisfied that everything was in order. For the time being she had officially listed him as "critical", though in reality he was riding the line between "critical" and "grave". However, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. If nothing else, Daniel was a fighter. He would find his way through this. She was sure of it. Though angels or not, healing this mess was going to be slow and painful and she most certainly didn't envy him the road ahead. 

Making a note in his chart, she gently patted his arm and headed off to start rounds on her less damaged patients.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

“Anything yet?” Jack asked striding up to the infirmary bed, Carter settled in a chair next to it.

“Not yet, Sir.” She shook her head, marking her place in the book she’d been reading before closing it.

“What does Frazier say?”

“Just that he’s still critical. She thinks we should talk to him, try to draw him out, but I ran out of things to say.” She shrugged.

“Let me give it a try.” Jack said, moving closer to the bed. “So…Daniel…nice move back there, buddy. When are you going to learn that when the team makes a move to save its collective ass yours needs to be right there with the rest of them? Do you see this hair?” he said tugging at a few short strands on the side of his head. “It used to have color in it before I met you.”

“I think I’ll leave you boys to do some bonding.” Sam said, getting up from her chair and sneaking past the Colonel who had a firm grip on the bed railing.

“I don't know if anyone has mentioned this to you, but let me be the first to break the news: you are a walking disaster. A living, breathing catastrophe in motion. I swear you're giving me an ulcer." He spat, a hand held to his far from settled stomach as he glared down at the well-bandaged and still unconscious man. “Damn it, Daniel…you…sometimes I just….” He grimaced, grinding his teeth together and strangling the railing with his free hand. 

With a heavy sigh he fell silent, finally giving up the attempt to find words to go with the tangle of emotions in his head. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to smash something to pieces. He wanted to take Daniel and shake him until his teeth rattled. The scowl on his face only deepened as he took inventory of the man in front of him, a man with skin still pale enough to illuminate every bruise. 

His upper body was a patchwork of surgical tape holding mounds of gauze in place, filling the spaces between the disconcerting number of medical gizmos attached to him. A clip on his finger monitored his pulse while a collection of wires ran from adhesive patches on his chest tracking his heart's sluggish rhythm. Most unsettling of all was the respirator tube protruding from his mouth, forcing air into his reluctant lungs. 

Then there were the stitches.

Jack squinted at the haphazard collection running randomly across Daniel's body realizing that with his eyes half closed it looked like someone had been doodling on his skin with a marker. It was a much less disturbing thought than the real reason for the short, black hash marks that covered him. At that point anything that took the edge off reality was fine with him.

Janet might have ushered them off to the side while she had worked on Daniel in the pyramid, but he had still seen plenty of the procedure that followed her arrival and had spent the better part of the last day and a half wishing he hadn’t. Her warning had been right on the money. It had been bad. He’d never seen so much blood. At least not from a person who had lived to tell about it. When she had finally managed to work the glass free from Daniel's chest it had come pouring out of him, a substantial pool of it left behind on the pyramid floor. At that moment all Jack had wanted to do was run, charge through the open wormhole and put half a universe between him and the tragedy he was helpless to stop. Instead his feet had taken him in Daniel's direction, his movement toward the stairs halted by Teal'c's determined hand on his shoulder. Jack didn't want to lose him like this. Actually he would prefer not to lose him at all, but certainly not on some abandoned planet, the victim of a goa'uld booby trap. 

Eyes riveted to the scene, heart pounding frantically, he had been unable to look away as Janet had hurriedly clamped most of the leaks in Daniel's mangled chest and neck. Hands working furiously as she had tacked his biggest internal injuries closed with stitches, she had then stuffed a ton of gauze into him and hustled him back to Earth to finish the job, her gloved hands and uniform covered in blood. He had heard Daniel softly moaning as they charged by, surprised at the sound, certain the man should have been dead or at the very least unconscious enough to be blissfully unaware of what was happening. 

Hours later when he had received the official list of injuries from Janet the fact that Daniel had lived to see the light of day seemed even more incredible. He had a severe concussion from bashing his head on something leaving a hairline fracture in his skull. Jack guessed it had been the table, but with the force of the blast it could have just as easily been the floor. He also had a nearly severed left arm and a gash on his neck that had managed to nick the carotid artery. Then there was the damage left by the glass that had speared him: a lacerated liver, punctured lung, small nick to the heart muscle and a whole lot of tissue damage. Added to that was the plethora of small cuts peppering his body. All told Janet had put 418 stitches, three pints of blood and two units of plasma into him before she was through. It was a wonder he was still around to worry them. 

With that horrific list in mind it wasn’t hard to understand why Daniel had been unconscious for nearly two days. To put it mildly, he was a bit banged up and he looked it. Still, Jack didn’t do well with nagging worry. Just hand him the outcome and he’d deal with it. Uncertainty made him cranky. He knew how quickly things could go wrong, how a turn for the worst could come out of nowhere and the thought that after all of this they could lose Daniel anyway was wearing on his nerves.

“You scared the hell out of me, Danny.” He said quietly around the lump in his throat. “But then you’ve always been good at that.” Jack reached down and rested his hand on Daniel’s arm, surprised at how warm he felt considering that he looked like death on a popsicle stick. “You know I’m no good at this stuff,” he admitted “but I think I’d miss you if you were gone…a little…probably.” 

Then just like Sam he fell into silence, his anger fading and the words drying up with it. With a sigh he settled into the chair she had vacated and tried to find a comfortable position to wait, the low, steady pulsing of the heart monitor lulling him into a stupor.

xxxxxxxxx

“O’Neill.” A low rumble of a voice penetrated Jack’s sleep and he jerked up in his chair.

“What? What’s going on?”

“I do not wish to disturb you, but you were snoring.” Teal’c informed him.

“I was?” he rubbed at a cramp in his neck.

“Indeed.” He nodded. “Dr. Frasier mentioned it was disturbing the other patients and suggested I wake you.”

“She did?” He said, glancing around, but finding her nowhere in sight to receive his rebuttal.

“How is DanielJackson?” Teal'c asked, changing the subject.

“Same old.” Jack yawned. “Beat up and unconscious.”

“You are displeased with him?” Teal’c asked, frowning at the tone in Jack’s voice.

“No, not really.” He sighed, running a hand across his face as he stood up from the chair. “I just hate that he keeps doing this. How many times can he be beat to hell before it’s one too many?” He asked, an honesty that only Teal’c could seem to draw out of him floating to the surface.

“His warning spared us a similar fate.” Teal’c pointed out.

“I know.”

“If he had not called out when he did we might have all perished.”

“I know that, too. I just wish he could have done it without being blown to bits in the process.”

“I agree. However, what is done is done.”

“I hate the waiting.” He admitted, glancing over at Daniel. “Is he going to be in a coma forever? I mean, he's going to wake up eventually, right?" Jack scrubbed at his hair, the anger returning. "You know, this glutton for punishment routine is getting a bit old, Daniel.” He groused, raising his voice. "There are other ways to get attention besides throwing yourself in front of a moving train."

“It was not a train, O'Neill. It was an explosive device." Teal'c protested "And I do not believe he chose this of his own will.” 

“Neither do I,” Jack admitted “but maybe if I piss him off enough he’ll snap out of it and tell me to 'shut up'.” He added.

“Has this been successful in the past?” Teal’c asked.

“Well, no, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“I see.” Teal’c raised an eyebrow at him before looking over at Daniel. “It appears to have been unsuccessful this time as well.”

“Give it time. Come on, Daniel. Up and at ‘em. Enough lounging around.” Jack jostled the bed, Daniel shifting with it. “We’re not going to hang around here forever you know. This place is boring as hell. Of course, you’d know that if you weren’t busy imitating a corpse.”

“What’s going on over here?” Janet asked, appearing around the privacy curtain, one not even remotely designed to absorb sound.

“O’Neill is attempting to awaken DanielJackson through insult.” Teal’c explained. “So far it has been unsuccessful.”

“Well it’s disturbing the rest of my patients.” She complained. “I said talk to him, Colonel, not yell at him.”

“Just making sure he can hear me.”

“I’m sure he can hear you just fine.”

“Yeah well if he's floating out there somewhere," he argued with a wave of his hand, "I wouldn't want him to miss the fact that I'm annoyed. I can make it an order, Daniel." He added. 

“It’s going to take time, Colonel.” She soothed. “He’s been through a lot. His body needs to heal and keeping him asleep makes the job easier.”

“So when is he going to wake up?”

“I don’t know.” She admitted. “It could be a few hours, it could be a few days. You’re going to have to be patient.”

“Fine. I’ll be patient while I’m rearranging the bookshelves in his office.” Jack said, raising his voice one last time before allowing Teal’c to lead him out of the infirmary.

“Another day of this, Daniel and I’m going to have to sedate him.” She sighed to her patient as she checked his IV and respirator. “You could wake up and save me the trouble. Think it over.” She said, patting his arm.

xxxxxxxxxx

Daniel drifted through layers of consciousness, pausing now and then to adjust to the increasing level of pain as he moved toward the voices. They had been chattering away almost constantly and curiosity was getting the better of him. Pain or no pain he wanted to know what they were saying. Creeping closer he began to recognize words and tones: someone’s impatience followed by a deep rumbling and then a soft, calm voice. Under it all was a new sound. The quiet chiming of a heart monitor. 

A white hot flash of pain struck out at him and for a moment he considered floating away again, but the impatient man raised his voice once more, catching Daniel's attention with his accusatory, mildly taunting tone. Something about books. Daniel tried to speak, but for some reason his mouth wouldn’t work. He attempted to reach a hand up to his face to investigate the sensation of having something wedged between his teeth, but the effort was too much. Deciding to ignore it for the moment, he focused instead on coaxing his eyes open. Slowly bit by bit the room came into view, the scene increasing as his eyelids inched into place. The cold, gray walls were vaguely familiar, like something he'd seen once in a dream, but for a moment he couldn’t quite place them. 

Head drifting slightly to the side, he could see the collection of machinery next to him and caught a glimpse of a very familiar red head striding away, shoes tapping on the floor as she crossed the room. Janet. Suddenly he knew exactly where he was. The infirmary, which he decided was a good thing considering how he felt. 

Daniel tried to move to get her attention, but in an instant she was gone and the curtain that had been pulled around his bed left him completely isolated, giving him no way to catch anyone's eye. If he was going to get her back he needed to make some noise. He tried to make his voice work, to let someone know he was awake, but his throat refused to cooperate. He could feel his lips moving, but there seemed to be something lodged in his mouth, his tongue scraping against it when he swallowed. 

It was several long moments of listening to the steady wheezing of the ventilator next to him before he pieced together exactly what was happening. The thing in his throat was helping him breathe, forcing air into his body. While he understood it, or at least understood it as well as was possible through the disoriented haze that clung to him, he didn't like the idea all that much. Part of his body was out of his control and as the notion settled itself in his mind his heart began to pound producing an insistent ache in his chest as his body tried to suck air in faster than the ventilator wanted to give it. 

The general rule of thumb in the infirmary was when Janet hooked you up to something you left it alone. She didn't take kindly to patients messing with her carefully placed equipment. Still the struggle for air was making him feel claustrophobic, panic rising in him as the pressure in his chest increased. Slowly Daniel lifted an arm toward his face with the intention of removing the tube from his throat, but the movement sent rivulets of pain scattering through him, bouncing off each other as they careened across his body and for an instant he was distracted by a new mystery. 

He was in the infirmary and felt very much like he'd been hit by a truck, but had no recollection of how he'd gotten there. Had he been in an accident? Had someone attacked him? Had it been the goa'uld? Who else had been hurt? The questions about his current predicament began piling up, the very real knowledge that every part of him hurt providing irrefutable proof that something had indeed happened even if he couldn't remember exactly what. However, as the pain lashed out at him in protest to the movement of his arm he found himself once again panting for air around the tube in his throat and suddenly he was right back where he’d started. 

Daniel struggled against the slow, determined pace of the air being forced into him, pain and panic driving him to an almost frantic state. Suddenly he didn't care what had happened to him. All he wanted was to breathe. An alarm sounded from one of the machines beside his bed, startling him and he turned his head to see what in his collection of machinery was wailing at him. Scowling at the ventilator with the angry red light glaring back at him, he considered the idea of reaching over and turning it off, the blaring of the alarm inspiring a new ache in his head. The sudden appearance of a familiar face as Janet came charging around the flimsy material of his privacy curtain was a welcomed sight. Her expression of obvious concern was instantly softened by relief when she found herself staring into his open eyes.

“Daniel.” She smiled. “Welcome back.”

He scowled back at her, mildly annoyed by her calm reaction to his very disturbing predicament. Not bothering to hide his intent to remove the annoying device in his throat, his hand finally came to rest on his face only to be met by a pile of plastic, the entire contraption moving when he touched it, shifting inside his throat.

“Easy, Daniel.” She said taking hold of his hand. “Just relax. Everything's ok. You have a tube in your throat helping you breathe. Do you understand?”

Daniel nodded, a deep frown creasing his face. "Helping" wouldn't have been the word he would have used.

“Just relax and take slow, deep breaths." She advised. "Like this.”

Gathering scraps of patience, he shifted his focus from her face to the exaggerated rise and fall of her chest, a pace that mimicked the rhythm of the respirator. As his breathing slowed the pressure in his chest decreased sweeping away a measure of his anxiety.

“Good.” She smiled, still holding his hand, gently returning it to his side. “I’m going to ask you a few questions. Don’t try to speak, just nod your head. Can you do that?”

Daniel nodded, his annoyance slowly fading as he slogged through the typical collection of basic questions designed to determine his level of cognition. Did he know his name? Did he know where he was? Did he recognize her? Apparently satisfied that his brain wasn’t nearly as battered and bruises as his body, Janet sent for reinforcements.

“Captain Braswell?” she called, waiting for what couldn't have been more than a few seconds before a tall, slender woman with dark hair appeared around the curtain. “Will you call Colonel O’Neill and tell him Daniel’s awake? Then I’m going to need your help taking out his tube.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The tall woman Daniel vaguely recognized smiled down at him before disappearing again.

“I’m going to take you off the respirator for a minute and I want you to breathe normally, alright?” Janet said, focusing her attention on his throat and fiddling with something he couldn’t see, though he could feel the tube in his mouth and throat move slightly. Instantly his hand came up again.

“It’s ok, Daniel.” She said, her tone gentle. “This won’t hurt. Just hold still.”

She reached out of his view for a moment, silencing the wailing machine just before Daniel heard the soft popping sound of plastic detaching from plastic.

“Ok, go ahead and take a breath.” She instructed.

Obediently Daniel dragged air into his lungs. It took a little more effort than he was used to, but he managed it, relieved to have his lungs working at his command again.

“Good. Very good. Alright, I think we can probably do without this thing so I’m going to pull the tube out of your throat. It’s going to feel strange, but it won’t hurt.” She assured him. “What I need you to do is take a deep breath and hold it, then when I tell you, blow it out as hard as you can. Got it?” Daniel nodded. “Good. As soon as Captain Braswell gets back…here she is. I think we’re ready, Captain. Ok, Daniel take a deep breath…as deep as you can. Good. Hold it.” She nodded across him to the tall woman. “Alright, Daniel, blow it out…push, push.” She chanted.

Daniel felt the tube sliding out of his throat making him gag and instinctively try to draw a breath to cough, his throat tightening as he choked and sputtered. He reached up to grab it and yank it out himself, but Captain Braswell caught his arm and held it firmly. Just before the panic officially took hold, the tube came out and suddenly he was able to breathe. 

“There we go.” Janet said, handing the offending piece of equipment to the Captain. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Daniel looked at her with a scowl of uncertainty. 

“Your throat is going to be sore for a while.” She warned. “So it would be better if you didn't talk very much at first. Give your vocal cords a chance to recover.”

“What…” he croaked, swallowing and grimacing from the promised pain.

“Take it easy.” She said, a hand on his arm. “Can you get him some paper and a pen?” she asked Captain Braswell who snapped off her rubber gloves and immediately disappeared. 

“What happened?” he asked in a harsh whisper.

“We can talk about that later." She replied. "You rest for a while."

It wasn't the answer he wanted. In fact, it wasn't much of an answer at all and he considered pressing her for information, but he was too tired for an argument. The excitement of the tube had drained him completely and several parts of his body were aching insistently making sleep seem even more inviting. Making a mental noted to grill Sam when she finally, inevitably appeared, Daniel let his eyes slide closed again and was sound asleep when the Captain returned with his pen and paper.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack wandered aimlessly through the halls of the SGC, the mystery of a mission gone terribly awry tumbling in his head. Mission after mission with the goa'uld and they had never run across a booby trap until now. Somehow it didn't seem very goa'uld-like at all. Ambushes, sure. Frontal attacks, absolutely. Hidden explosive devices that destroyed an entire room and all the technology in it just to take out an unidentified intruder, far from typical. It was either the work of a very independent thinker or it hadn't been the goa'uld at all. The fact that after two days he hadn't been able to solve the mystery was wearing on him. Someone had blown Daniel to pieces and he wanted to know who. 

Teal'c had escorted him from the infirmary and left him to his own devices after making him promise not to turn around and head immediately back to Daniel's side. He had agreed with the intention of doing exactly that once Teal'c was out of sight, but as he had waited for the Jaffa to disappear from view he had realized there was no point. Daniel was unconscious, had been for days and staring at him wasn't going to wake him up any faster. There were things that needed to be done, bits and pieces of the normal routine that, despite the latest catastrophe, still needed to be taken care of so Jack had set out in search of something to occupy his time and if at all possible, his mind. 

Setting his feet on automatic pilot he had fully expected them to take him to the Control Room so it came as a complete surprise when he looked up and found himself standing outside Daniel's office. Blinking in confusion at the open office door he realized that while his brain might still be searching its closets for answers his feet apparently already knew where to find them. The haphazard stack of goa'uld tablets piled on Daniel's desk. In a fit of inspiration he realized all he needed to do was take them to Teal'c and he would have his answer in a matter of minutes. Alright, maybe hours. 

The normal routine tossed aside once again, Jack strode into what he had expected to be an empty room only to find he wasn't the only one who had realized where the answers lay. As usual Sam was way ahead of him, already huddled at Daniel's desk, inspecting one of the tablets. 

Jack had no idea how long he had been wandering the halls of the SGC, his mind completely occupied by his injured friend, but it had been long enough for Teal'c to have perched himself beside Sam at the desk and start to work on a translation.

The sound of Jack's boots on the floor brought Sam's head up from her inspection of the oddly shaped tablet.

"Carter." Jack nodded at her.

"Sir." She replied, a brief look of surprise crossing her face. "How's Daniel?" 

"About the same. Find anything?" 

"I think so." She said, turning slightly in her chair. "At first I thought maybe the lab belonged to someone other than a goa'uld. The explosion just didn't seem like their M.O." She said, launching into an explanation that echoed the thoughts in his head. "It occurred to me that maybe the tablets had been left there by someone else. Possibly stolen from one of the system lords."

Instantly Jack began scrolling through his catalog of bad guys looking for someone with both the ability and the brass kahonies to steal from the goa'uld. Not to mention being willing to destroy an entire lab for the sake of taking out an intruder.

"The Tok'ra?" he gaped. "You think the Tok'ra did this?"

"At first. Until Teal'c started helping me translate this stuff." Sam admitted. "We found a name, Sir."

"Spit it out, Carter." He snapped.

"Neirti." She said.

"Neirti?"

Sam nodded.

"Ok, but I thought she was a prisoner? I mean, Kronos still has her, right? Right?"

"As far as I know, Sir, but that doesn't mean she didn't set this up before being caught. For all we know this was the lab she used to start her experiments with phase shifting."

Sam was right. It made sense. Neirti was certainly a free thinker, at least by goa'uld standards and she would have been willing to destroy her secrets rather than let them fall into the hands of a rival. Still Jack found the news oddly disappointing. He'd been envisioning a scene where he blew the offending system lord to hell with enough C4 to level Fort Knox. Now it seemed the snake-head was out of his reach, already in the claws of someone else who wanted revenge. It brought him very little comfort to imagine what Kronos was already doing to her. In fact, it only served to fuel his anger when he thought of how pleased the vile woman would be to know her booby trap had actually exacted a little revenge of her own even if it had been accidental. Jack stood scowling to himself, annoyed and disappointed by the answer.

The sudden ringing of the phone on Daniel's desk startled him, dislodging his train of thought, but not the emotion behind it. Instantly Jack snatched it up wondering at the identity of the moron who was out of touch enough to be calling the office of a man currently fighting for his life in the infirmary.

"O'Neill." He barked

"Sir, it's Captain Braswell in the infirmary." A tight voice blurted out quickly. "Dr. Jackson is awake."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

A determined twinge in his shoulder dragged Daniel from his dreams once again, heavy eyelids opening to reveal the same gray walls he'd seen before. He had no idea how long he'd been out, the infirmary not lending itself to any easy assessment of the passage of time. The lighting was always the same, the hustle and bustle continuous. Even in the wee hours of the morning it lacked the nearly abandoned hush one might expect. It was usually a bit quieter with most of the patients unconscious, but with the SGC catering to the current time on a dozen worlds there was never really such a thing as "after hours". However, judging by the collection of voices, shuffling of feet and mild commotion going on around him Daniel concluded it was sometime other than the middle of the night. Other than that hadn't a clue. 

Rolling his head lazily to the side he discovered Jack slouched in a chair next to his bed, his nose in a copy of Hockey Digest.

"Hi, Jack." He sighed, his voice gravely.

Obviously startled, Jack's head immediately came up from the magazine. "Hi."  
For a moment the two men stared at each other, neither one sure what to say next, Jack managing to find his voice first.

"So…"

"So…" Daniel croaked in reply.

"How are you feeling? You look…" Jack nodding toward him, a quick, appraising glance smudging the attempted casual smile on his face. "How are you feeling?" He repeated.

"Peachy." Daniel said. "Is there any water?"

"Water? Uh, no, I, uh…" Jack made a harried inspection of the immediate area. "I'll get some."

In a flash he was up and out of the chair, dropping the magazine on the bed as he went. Daniel closed his eyes for a moment willing his shoulder to cease its whining. 

He didn't know how bad he looked, only how bad he felt, but judging by Jack's reaction, not to mention his presence, the two had to be closely aligned. 

It was no secret that Jack didn't like the infirmary. In fact, he spent as little time in it as possible even when he was the one in the bed. Never more than a phone call away he preferred to do his bedside vigil somewhere other than the bedside. The fact that he was spending enough time in a chair by Daniel's to warrant reading material spoke volumes about Jack’s level of concern. Not to mention how badly he must have been hurt when whatever had happened, happened. 

Daniel didn't want a list of his injuries. In all honesty he didn't really want to know, but even without the details he knew it must have been a close call if it had scared Jack enough to have him cooling his heels in his least favorite part of the complex. 

The sound of approaching shoes accompanied by a cheerful and very familiar voice interrupted his thoughts, Daniel perfectly willing to have them interrupted before they took a turn toward the depressing.

"Hello, Daniel." Janet greeted as she appeared around the privacy curtain in his corner of the infirmary, Jack tagging along behind her carrying a plastic cup that was sporting a flexible straw. "How are you feeling?" she asked, unknowingly echoing Jack's question.

"Thirsty. Sore." Daniel supplied.

"Here you go." She said, taking the cup from Jack and holding the straw to Daniel's lips. "Small sips." She instructed. "How's that?"

"Better. Thank you."

"How's the pain?" she asked, setting the cup down and gently pulling back the sheet to inspect Daniel's chest, his torso bare except for the gauze, surgical tape and a plethora of stitches scattered across his body. 

"Shoulder hurts." He admitted. "Head's not great either."

"I'm going to, uh…I'll just be outside." Jack said. "Good to have you back, Daniel." He added, snatching his magazine from the bed and making a B-line for the door.

"Stitches make him queasy." Janet explained, Daniel nodding understanding. "Anything else besides your shoulder and head?"

"Not at the moment."

"The drainage looks good." She said, inspecting the small tube snaking out from under a substantial pile of gauze that encased his injured arm. "I'll up your dosage of pain killers a bit and see if that helps." She said, giving the rest of him a cursory glance before covering him again, a thorough inspection of his wounds having already been done hours earlier. 

"Other than the pain how are you feeling?" she asked, focusing her attention on his face rather than his injuries. "Any nausea, dizziness, shortness of breath?"

"No. Just tired."

"That's to be expected. You're probably going to sleep more than anything else for the next few days. You've got a lot of healing to do."

Daniel nodded minutely. "What happened, anyway?" he asked, not entirely certain he wanted the answer.

"What do you remember?" she countered.

"Stepping through the gate into a very old building, probably a pyramid of some kind. Teal'c and I went to have a look around and then I woke up here."

"Apparently you were caught in an explosion." Janet supplied.

"Sam and Teal'c?" he asked, instantly concerned for the teammates he hadn't seen yet.

"They're fine." Janet assured him. "They got out in time."

"What exploded?"

"I'm a little sketchy on the details, myself." Janet admitted. "You'll probably have to ask your team. In the meantime, I would suggest you get some rest."

Daniel nodded again as he yawned, feeling his strength ebbing after the brief conversation. As he drifted back to sleep he wondered how long it would be before he could keep his eyes open long enough to get the whole story about what had happened.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

When Daniel woke again it was to completely different surroundings. Not unfamiliar, but the sudden change left him feeling disoriented. Instead of a small corner of the main infirmary he was in a large room that qualified as the SGC version of a private ICU. He was surrounded by medical equipment, twin arrays of dimmed surgical lights shinning down on him from the ceiling. The observation room in front of him was dark, the chairs abandoned. As far as he could tell he was alone. It was a notion that made him distinctly uneasy. Had something gone wrong that made Janet decide to move him to the ICU? Was he getting worse? If that was the case why had they left him alone? What if he needed help? Could anyone hear him?

A sudden tremor ran through his body halting the growing string of questions, twitching muscles awakening several aches and pains before he was still again. It had felt almost like a shudder, but stronger and instantly the hint of concern he had been feeling blossomed. Something was wrong. He could feel it and a second tremor seemed to confirm it.

The quiet sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention and he turned his head as far as possible, straining to see the doorway. The eyes of an approaching nurse met his as she came through the door.

"Hello, Dr. Jackson." She greeted warmly.

"Hello." He echoed, stilling his anxiety long enough to be polite. "Where's Dr. Frasier?" 

"She's doing post mission physicals." The woman wearing Captain's bars and a name tag that said "Miller" explained.

"Can you get her for me?"

"Is everything alright?"

"I don't know." He said shuddering again. "Will you just ask her to come in here?"

"Of course." Captain Miller agreed, her smile fading as she reached for a phone attached to the wall by the door.

Daniel could hear Janet's shoes on the floor before he saw her, the sound comforting him instantly. 

"Everything ok, Daniel?" she asked approaching his bed, making a quick appraising sweep of his body.

"I don't know." He admitted. "I keep shivering."

"Are you cold?"

"No."

Janet rested the back of her hand against his cheek to gauge his temperature.

"Why did you move me?" he asked.

"In here? Because you need your rest and the main infirmary isn't exactly ideal for that kind of thing. Besides, your condition has improved enough that you should be just fine in a room of your own. I have someone coming in to check on you every twenty minutes and you can always use the call button if you need anything."

Another shudder ran through him and Daniel watched Janet's face, confused when he saw no trace of concern.

"Is that what you were talking about?" she asked.

Daniel nodded, eyes glued to her.

"That's nothing to worry about." She assured him. "You're having small seizures."

"And that's nothing to worry about?" he gaped.

"It's perfectly normal for someone with a head injury." She said, a hand rested reassuringly on his good shoulder. "Your brain is in the process of healing, just like the rest of you. Somewhere in there you've got a small short in the system that is sending impulses to your body. It's not serious. In most cases it's only temporary. It should fade as you recover."

"'Most cases'…'should'?" Daniel echoed.

"98%." She assured him. "It's nothing to worry about. Really."

"If you say so." He replied, much less than convinced.

"You're going to have to trust me on this." She said. "Other than that, how are you feeling?"

"About the same."

"Good." She smiled. "Let me know if that changes. Don't worry, Daniel." She added making note of the scowl still on his face. "Everything is coming along nicely. You're actually doing a bit better than I expected for a guy in the shape you were in four days ago."

Daniel nodded trying to calculate the time he'd been in the infirmary and realized that his estimate was off by at least two days. He didn't like the idea that he was sleeping away substantial chunks of time, but at the same time he could hardly expect anything else when he was always on the verge of exhaustion. A five-minute conversation wore him out. Still, despite the fact that all the sleeping wasn't doing anything to remedy his confusion and disorientation he comforted himself with the notion that at least he wasn't waking up to find himself surrounded by medical staff in a panic. The sound of Janet barking orders, attempting to be heard above a cacophony of machine alarms while nurses fluttered around him would definitely not help to reassure him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could almost recall such a scene, but couldn't quite place where or when it had happened.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam sat nestled in a chair beside Daniel's bed attempting to focus on the book in her lap and noting with mild annoyance that she had read the same paragraph three times. Finally giving up, she closed it and turned her full attention to her sleeping friend, willing him to wake up, but at the same time wanting to let him rest. From the look of him he needed it. His color was slightly better than it had been days before, but he was still barely more than a mass of bandages and bruises held together by Janet's stitches. At the moment he was dreaming peacefully, curled on his side, carefully propped up by a collection of pillows in an attempt to keep him from getting bedsores from lying in the same position for too long. 

Over the years Sam had seen him beat up, bandaged and abused, but never like this. Never to the point where Janet was spending days on end hovering over him as if he were her only patient, attempting to coax his body into healing itself. Janet hadn't said so, but she knew they'd come close to losing him this time. The tension in her friend's face those first few days had said as much as any report. Janet was worried and Janet Frasier didn't do worried, at least not under normal circumstances. 

Sam hadn’t watched as Janet had worked to put Daniel back together on P3J117. She couldn’t. She’d had to turn away to keep from coming apart at the sight of him and hadn’t looked again until the group had come thundering up the steps to the gate headed for Earth. The brief glimpse of Janet’s blood covered uniform had been more than enough. Sam had never been the squeamish type, but the general sight of gore was very different from having one of her friends covered in the blood of another. 

She hadn't intended to look at the list of Daniel's injuries or ask exactly how badly the explosion had hurt him. It was information she hadn't wanted, but as he had rounded the second day of unconsciousness curiosity had gotten the better of her. The scientific part of her brain demanded data assuming she could estimate how long it would take him to come around if she knew exactly what he had to overcome. Peering at his chart she had developed sympathy aches and pains at the extensive list. There was only one word to describe it: bad. Instead of easing her concerns it had only made them worse. How Daniel could possibly recover from that much damage and ever be the same was beyond her. Nevertheless he seemed to be doing it, making slow, but relatively steady progress, at least according to Janet. For Sam's part all she could see was he was still sleeping most of the time, being nourished solely by an IV and showing no signs of returning to his normal, energetic self any time soon. 

Setting the book aside, Sam reached through the bed railing and gently gripped Daniel's hand, comforted by the warmth and quite surprised to feel him weakly squeeze back. Several moments of twitching of his eyelids passed before thin slits of blue finally appeared.

"Hi." She smiled watching as he attempted to smile back. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No." he mumbled. "Not really asleep."

"Do you need anything?" she asked quietly.

"No."

"Want me to leave you alone?"

"No."

"I could sit with you for a while, if you want." she offered hopefully, not really wanting to leave. At least not yet.

"K." he replied, the blue disappearing once again, though his tentative grip on her hand remained. 

A profound sense of relief flowed over her replacing a good deal of the anxiety she had been struggling with only moments before. He was awake, he was talking, at least a little and he obviously recognized her. It was a good sign as far as she was concerned. She knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but maybe he was going to pull through after all. Finally, the vision that had been haunting her for days of him slipping away from them without ever really waking up began to fade.

"Sam." He croaked quietly several long moments later in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"What happened?

"What do you mean?"

"The pyramid. How did I get hurt?" He asked, tired, but inquisitive eyes peering back at her.

"There was an explosion." She said, gripping his hand a little more firmly. "We found a lab in the basement. Some kind of goa'uld hideout. Apparently it was booby-trapped and you were caught inside."

"Whose?"

"Whose?"

"Whose hideout?"

"Oh. We're pretty sure it was Nierti. She must have been experimenting with something before she was taken prisoner by Kronos."

Daniel nodded at the explanation and closed his eyes once again. If he had any opinion about the revelation he was apparently too tired to share it. Instead, he seemed to take the news in stride and settled back to what looked like sleep, though his hold on her hand betrayed the fact that he was at least partly awake. Sam watched him for a few minutes, studying his face, trying hard not to think about the many times she had sat with him in the infirmary over the past few years. Working even harder not to think about the scene in the pyramid. Finally deciding the safest bet was to keep her brain occupied with something else, she settled the book back on her lap and, with her hand still holding his, returned her attention to the section she had been reading. This time instead of merely rereading the same paragraph time and time again, she actually managed to concentrate on the pages, making it through an entire chapter before the tightening of Daniel's grip distracted her. A glance at his face revealed a small scowl wrinkling the space between his eyebrows.

"You ok?" Sam asked.

"Hurts."

"Want me to get Janet?"

Daniel didn't reply immediately, the scowl in place for several moments before he finally gave her a slight nod. Sam hit the call button on the small remote by his head without bothering to ask for confirmation or even exactly what it was that hurt. It didn't matter. He was in pain and she was going to summon the one person who could put a stop to it, whatever it was. Seconds later Sam could hear the hurried sound of footsteps in the hall outside, a small herd of people approaching as Janet and two of her nurses appeared in the room.

"What's going on?" Janet asked, slight tension in her voice as she automatically assumed that at that stage of Daniel's recovery a call for assistance meant at least a relatively serious problem.

"He said he hurts." Sam explained getting up from the chair, but still holding his hand, his grip on her firm.

"What hurts, Daniel?" Janet asked, maneuvering around Sam who was doing her best to get out of the way without actually letting go.

"Stomach." He replied quietly.

"Can you show me where?"

Finally releasing Sam he slowly brought his hand up to his stomach, pointing out a spot high on his abdomen. "Here."

"Let's have a look." Janet said, peeling the sheet off him far enough to inspect the offending area. "Here?" She asked gently touching what she thought was the same place he'd pointed out and watching him nod. "Let's get him on his back." She instructed.

Sam watched from the end of the bed as the nurses removed the collection of pillows and slowly lowered him into a prone position on the mattress. The scowl on Daniel's face deepened to a near grimace as they moved him, his breath coming in small, slow pants.

"Tell me if this hurts." Janet instructed as she began to gently probe the area slightly below the long line of stitches already in place, pressing fingers into his belly.

"Nng." Daniel groaned almost immediately, his body twitching as he tried to pull himself into a ball.

"Does that hurt?"

He nodded.

"How about here?" she asked, moving her hands and inspecting other places on his stomach, his response fading the further she moved from the offending spot.

"Is it a sharp pain or a dull kind of throbbing pain?" she asked, a hand rested lightly on his bare stomach more to comfort him with her touch than to examine him.

"Both."

"When did this start?"

"Don't know. A while ago."

"Let's get an x-ray." Janet instructed the nurses. "And get a temp. He feels warm."

"What is it?" Sam asked as one of the nurses left the room.

"I'm not sure. It could be any number of things." Janet shrugged. "We cleaned an awful lot of glass out of him. It could be I missed a piece somewhere."

"99.8." the remaining nurse announced having briefly stuck a handheld contraption in his ear to check his temperature.

"Looks like you've spiked a small fever, Daniel." Janet informed him with a sigh. "Does anything else hurt?"

Daniel nodded.

"Any more than normal?"

He twitched his head from side to side.

"How's the drainage from his shoulder?" she asked, watching as the nurse inspected the tube and small bladder like bag it was attached to.

"Looks normal." The woman announced. "No blood."

"Good." Janet nodded. 

All forward momentum seemed to stop as they stood waiting for the portable x-ray to arrive, Janet gripping Daniel's hand much the way Sam had been, stroking it with her thumb in an effort to comfort him as he continued to pant quietly.

Sam was ushered out of the room, banished to the observation area while the small group donned lead-lined aprons and took an x-ray of Daniel's torso. The picture, however, didn't offer the instant answer Janet had been hoping for. Sam watched her scowl at it on the light board near the door, arms folded across her chest, clearly not pleased by what she saw.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked through the speaker system.

"There's a small shadow just below his stomach, but I can't tell what it is." Janet replied. "Other that that, everything looks good."

"So now what?"

"Now we try an upper GI and see what that says." She said, flipping off the light. "Let's get it set up." She added to her small staff of two. "I want to get this done this morning."

"Yes, ma'am." They replied, one echoing the other before heading out of the room.

"Don't worry, Daniel." Janet offered, returning her attention to her patient. "We'll figure it out. Just hang in there."

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Janet strode through the rapidly emptying halls toward the elevator, rubbing at the back of her neck as she went, attempting to work out a knot near her shoulder. It had been a very long day, one that had started with half the members of SG-9 returning from a mission sporting staff burns and ended with another round of emergency surgery on Daniel. 

The GI series had revealed something out of whack in his upper intestine several inches below his stomach. She had sedated him and scoped him only to find that sometime during his ordeal in the exploding lab he had managed to swallow a chunk of glass. In all honesty she was surprised it had only been one. The offending piece had apparently tumbled around in his stomach for quite a while before slowly working its way through his system looking for a place to wreck havoc. Shifting him onto his side had obviously given the little troublemaker the opportunity it had been looking for and it had taken full advantage of it, tearing a small hole in his intestine to go along with the tiny cuts it had left in the lower sphincter of his stomach. While the cuts would heal on their own, she had been forced to leave yet more stitches in him when she had opened him up again to remove the glass and patch the hole. With the notion of even more slivers in him waiting for a chance to strike, she had ordered a chest x-ray to make sure he hadn't inhaled any. The film had shown nothing out of the ordinary in his lungs so anything he had taken in apparently wasn't large enough to be causing problems. At least not yet. 

Stepping from the elevator that immediately refilled with people on their way to the surface, Janet continued to move against the flow of personnel as she headed for General Hammond's office to update him on Daniel's condition. As always, his door was open, Janet knocking on the metal door jam to announce herself.

"Come in." Hammond said, waving her into the office. "Have a seat." He added, folding his laptop closed to guard the privacy of the communiqué he had been working on.

"Thank you, Sir." She said, gratefully sinking into a chair.

"How's our boy doing?" he asked giving her his undivided attention.

"He's in recovery." She explained. "He came through the surgery without any problem."

"Glad to hear it." Hammond replied, his face showing a degree of relief. "How's he doing in general?"

"He's coming along. It's going to be slow going at first, Sir. He's got a lot of damage to heal."

"I read the report." Hammond admitted with a sigh. "The man's lucky to be alive."

"Very." She agreed. "Once we get him through the critical stage he should make a full recovery. It will take quite a bit of work on his part, but he'll make it. I have him scheduled to start light physical therapy in a couple of days, baring any more surprises, of course."

"Good work, Doctor." Hammond replied, turning his attention back to his computer. "Keep me informed."

"Yes, Sir." Janet said, getting up from the chair and showing herself out of the room.

Janet returned to the maze of halls deciding to take the stairs rather than fight for an elevator. It was nearing 18:00 hours and most people were headed home. She had intended to be one of them, but Daniel's surgery had tossed that idea out the window. She wasn't leaving the base until she knew he had come out of the anesthesia alright. Once she had him safely tucked away in his room she would consider the notion of going home.

Just after 20:00 hours Janet stood over his bed checking lines and machines making sure everything was where it should be. His IV was still in place the way it had been for days, bag after bag of glucose providing him with at least minimal nourishment. The sensor monitoring his pulse was still clipped to one finger and a curl of clear tubing wound its way around his ears and across his face delivering a steady supply of oxygen. A drainage tube peeked out from under the gauze of his injured shoulder and his catheter tube snaked discretely from under the blankets at the foot of the bed to a bag hanging low on the frame. A bag that would need to be changed before the night was through.

Daniel had awakened from the anesthesia long enough to convince her that everything was as it should be before immediately drifting back to sleep. She expected him to be unconscious for the rest of the night as his body dealt with the newest assault. Making a note in his chart for the nurses who were scheduled to check on him every fifteen minutes, Janet dimmed the lights overhead, patted his good shoulder gently and headed for home.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel slowly, cautiously opened his eyes, squinting at the bright lights of his room. His head had been pounding off and on for most of the morning in concert with the rolling waves of nausea that had him eagerly seeking sleep as a means of escape. He hadn't felt great before his last round of surgery, but now he felt absolutely awful. He shivered under the blankets, a sensation that felt completely different from the small tremors he'd been having before, this shuddering coming as part of the fever he had apparently acquired. Eyes burning, body aching from the constant shuddering that disturbed still tender wounds Daniel blinked at the large, dark form standing by his bed.

"Teal'c?" He croaked.

"I am here." The large man rumbled quietly with a slight nod of his head.

"Can you turn down the lights?"

"I can." He replied, immediately moving toward the knob perched on the wall near the door and rotating it, the light fading to a moderate glow.

"Thank you." Daniel said through teeth clenched to keep them from chattering.

They had propped him on his side again to keep him from choking should his nausea turn to something more active than a mere rolling of his stomach. A small, orange basin rested on the mattress near his head for the same reason. So far it remained empty, his occasional dry heaves producing nothing but an ache in his abused belly. 

"Has Dr. Frasier been here?" he asked.

"She has not. She is attending to other matters, however, a nurse examined you not long ago."

Daniel nodded. Sleeping kept him out of reach of most of the symptoms, but it also left him completely unaware of what was being done to him and by whom. He had no idea how long it had been since Janet had been to see him or what she had decided to do about the fact that he felt so terrible. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure she knew just how bad he was feeling since he hadn't been awake to tell her.

"Well hello, Dr. Jackson." Captain Miller greeted cheerfully as she entered the room, one of the many faces he was becoming familiar with. "Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Lousy." He complained.

"I can imagine." She replied, sympathy replacing some of the cheer. "You've been running quite a fever. Don't worry, Dr. Frasier has you on antibiotics and acetaminophen so it should be coming down soon. As long as we're on the subject…" She explained, carefully inserting the digital thermometer into his ear, removing it a second later. "102.6. Hmm. Not much of an improvement." She frowned at the reading before making a note in his chart. "How's the nausea?"

"Still there."

"How about the headache?"

"Mmm hmm." He said, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Any other symptoms? Dizziness, shortness of breath, things like that?"

"A little dizzy, everything aches." He added, realizing that they actually understood fairly well how he was feeling.

"You're due for another dose of acetaminophen in about thirty minutes." Miller informed him. "That should help a little with the fever. If we can get that down to a decent number you should start to feel better."

"Where's Janet?" he asked, giving up the attempt to keep his eyes open and letting them slide closed.

"She's taking care of a few other patients. She'll be in to check on you as soon as she can."

Daniel nodded minutely before gratefully surrendering to sleep once again.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Janet donned a fresh pair of latex gloves and a small surgical mask before heading toward the far end of the infirmary to check on a member of SG-11 who seemed to have come down with a nasty case of the flu. Crossing the room she passed Captain Miller who had just reappeared from what she assumed was the latest check on Daniel.

"Any improvement on Dr. Jackson?" she asked, voice slightly muffled from the mask.

"Not really." The nurse admitted. "His fever's still over 102."

"How long until his next dose of meds?" 

"Thirty minutes on the acetaminophen, an hour for Percodan." She said. "He's asking for you, by the way."

"I know." Janet sighed. "I'll be in to see him as soon as I can."

Janet looked her flu patient over quickly before herding him out of the infirmary toward home. He was sick, but not sick enough to warrant keeping him on base and exposing the rest of her patients, not to mention her staff. Snapping off her gloves she congratulated herself for having already moved Daniel to isolation. The last thing he needed was the flu on top of everything else. She scribbled a note in the flu victim's chart and left it for the nurses to enter in the computer before heading for Daniel's room. 

He'd been asking for her for over an hour, but while he might have been her most critical patient she couldn’t justify neglecting the less injured ones when he was in perfectly good hands with her nurses. Besides, as far as his current symptoms went there wasn't much she could do for him, but assure him it would pass.

She wasn't surprised to hear he had spiked a fever during the night, the call to her house coming in at around 03:00 hours. She had been expecting some kind of retaliation from his body after the surgery. It was having a hard enough time putting him back together without the added insult of the tear in his intestines, not to mention her filling him full of anesthesia and cutting yet more holes in him to repair it. The minimal temperature he had developed in the beginning had disappeared after surgery only to reassert itself hours later. She had started him on antibiotics to prevent any nasty side effects from the fluids that had leaked into him before she'd discovered the tear and the normal analgesics to combat the fever. Still, he was struggling. Even if she hadn't been aware of it before, the fact that it had taken him nearly two hours longer than normal to come out of sedation had been a warning sign. His liver wasn't functioning up to par. She had added daily blood tests to his list of procedures to keep an eye on it. So far the results weren't enough to worry her, just confirmation of the fact that he was struggling. 

Thankfully the rest of his organs seemed to be keeping up. His heart was fine, his blood pressure holding steady at a very respectable level. His kidney function was normal. His lungs were clear, Janet having removed him from the oxygen when she'd come in that morning, more as an effort to get the tubing out of his way should his nausea progress to vomiting than anything. All in all, his body was making every attempt to piece itself back together, but it was having to work at it and hadn't taken very kindly to being assaulted yet again as was evidenced by the fever, headache and nausea.

All in all Daniel was feeling miserable. While there were perfectly logical explanations for his symptoms it didn't make him feel any better. Thankfully he was perfectly willing to sleep his way through the worst of it. Some of her more notorious patients wouldn't have been nearly as easy to deal with.

Janet strode into Daniel's room to find Sam once again by his side gripping the fingers of one of his hands in both of hers as she leaned close to the bed, talking softly to him. Her concerned expression shifted almost instantly to relief when Janet appeared.

"How are we doing in here?" Janet greeted cheerfully, letting her tone of voice reassure both of them that there was nothing to worry about.

"Not great." Sam answered for him.

"Are you with me, Daniel?" she asked, stepping up to the bed, watching as he nodded, blue eyes tinged with red from the fever. "Not feeling too good, huh?" she said gently stroking his hair as she reached for his chart and quickly scanned the latest entries. "Fever's still up, but so far it looks like your stomach is holding its own." She added peering into the empty basin by his head. "That's good. Pulse is steady, kidney function is normal. Good." She added, running down the list of his latest statistics. "Now if we can just get this fever under control I think the rest of the symptoms will disappear with it."

"Do I have the flu?" Daniel mumbled asking the question that had been floating in and out of his mind all day.

"No. I don't think so." Janet assured him, tucking the chart under her arm. "Your body's just stressed out right now and this is its way of letting you know. That last surgery pushed it over the edge a little. I've got you on antibiotics as a precaution, but I really don't think it's an infection. You just need to rest and let things settle. You'll start to feel better soon, I promise."

Daniel nodded and closed his eyes, surrendering to weariness. Sam, who had been standing by his bed during the entire conversation motioned Janet to the far side of the room, safely out of earshot.

"How is he really?" she asked. "The nurse said something about his liver."

"It's nothing to be concerned about." Janet assured her. "His function is down a bit, but nothing catastrophic. At this point there's no reason to think he won't make a full recovery."

"He just looks miserable." Sam replied, casting a glance toward the bed.

"Probably because he is." She shrugged. "But his fever peaked this morning and has been slowly sliding back down since then. The closer we get to 100 the better he's going to feel. Don't worry, Sam." Janet said, giving her arm a squeeze. "He'll bounce back. It's just going to take some time. Baring any more emergency procedures he should be feeling a lot better in a day or two."

Janet watched as relief slid back into place in Sam's expression.

"In the meantime, you can sit with him, but I want him to sleep." She warned. "Right now what he needs more than anything is rest."

"Got it." Sam replied. 

"If he wakes up again tell him I'll be back to check on him later."

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Anyway, so the three bears go for a walk in the forest while the oatmeal cools." 

Daniel had been tuning out Jack's voice for some time, the sound weaving in and out of his consciousness as he lightly dozed. However, Jack's rewritten rendition of The Three Bears was more than he could ignore.

"Porridge, Jack." He grumbled.

"Thought you were asleep." Jack replied after a startled pause.

"I was trying." He complained, eyes still closed. "And it's porridge, not oatmeal."

"Porridge, oatmeal, what's the difference?" Jack replied before continuing on with the tale. "So they disappear into the woods and this girl comes along. Little kid with long curly hair. She's lost and she sees the house so she decides to stop and ask for directions, but when she knocks on the door nobody answers, right? Because the bears are gone, so she opens the door and walks in. Well after wandering through the forrest for who knows how long she's hungry and she sees these bowls of oatmeal on the table so she decides since no one's around she'll just help herself. Yeah, I know, no manners. 

“Anyway, she climbs up on the biggest chair at the table with the biggest bowl of oatmeal and slurps down a spoonful, but it's too hot and it burns her tongue. Then she goes to the second chair with a smaller bowl and takes a bite, but that one is too cold and the oatmeal's all clumped together. So she moves to the smallest chair with the smallest bowl and it's just right so she eats the whole thing.

"You know, this story would make a lot more sense if it was Fruit Loops or something." Jack paused in his telling. "I mean what kid is really going to sit down and willingly eat an entire bowl of oatmeal?"

"There would have been no reason for the bears to leave had it been Fruit Loops, O'Neill." Teal'c commented.

"I suppose not. Anyway, after eating the oatmeal she decides she needs a nap because she's tired from all the walking. So she goes upstairs and climbs on the first bed she sees, which is Papa Bear's bed. But it's too tall and has one of those scratchy wool blankets so she goes to the next bed. This one's got so many pillows on it she can't even find the bed. I'm not talking the ones you put your head on. These are those frilly, foofy ones that have no point at all other that to make it impossible to get into the bed. Goldilocks isn't in the mood to deal with it so she goes over to the smallest bed and climbs in."

"I forget what happens next." Jack admitted. "Hey Daniel, what happens after the beds?"

"Bears come home." He mumbles having closed his eyes once again, returning to his attempt at sleep.

"Right. Right. So the bears have been out walking and decide it's time to come home. They walk in the door and what do they find? Papa Bear has oatmeal all over his end of the table from where the kid spit it out. Mama Bear's spoon is sticking out of hers, standing straight up in the bowl and Baby Bear's bowl is totally clean. Then Papa Bear is standing at the end of the table and he goes: 'Someone's been sleeping in my bed'."

"Sitting in my chair." Daniel corrected.

"Right, right. So they go through the whole 'someone's been eating my oatmeal' routine. Then they head upstairs. At this point Papa Bear is getting pissed because it looks like someone's been in his house and the baby is crying because his breakfast is gone and he's hungry. So while Mama bear is cleaning up the mess he heads upstairs to check the jewelry box and get his shotgun."

"There's no shotgun in The Three Bears, Jack." Daniel interrupted, blinking groggily over at Jack.

"Of course there's a shotgun in it. Why else would he be going upstairs? So anyway he gets upstairs and sees the blanket on his bed is jerked all out of place. Half Mama Bear's pillows are on the floor and there's this suspicious lump under the blankets in the baby's crib. So then he does the whole 'someone's been sleeping in my bed' thing and Goldilocks wakes up from all the racket to find herself staring at a family of thoroughly pissed bears and high tails it out of there and that's pretty much it."

"I see." Teal'c replied. "What is the purpose of this story, O'Neill?"

"I don't know. It's just a fairy tale it doesn't have a purpose."

"It's supposed to teach social order." Daniel mumbled. "Everyone has their place, yada, yada."

"I see." Teal'c repeated, Daniel smiling to himself at the raised eyebrow that went with it.

"Are you sure?" Jack asked. "I would have thought it would be a warning about trespassing where you don't belong. Go into the wrong house and you could find yourself looking at a bunch of bears."

"I don't think so."

"So how does the shotgun part teach social order?"

"Doesn't." Daniel said simply, too tired for one of "those" conversations.

"Huh. Maybe you get that from Jack and the Beanstalk."

"Greed and envy." Daniel muttered.

"Are you sure?"

"Mmm hmm." He said, settling rapidly back to sleep  
.  
"OK so what do you get out of Old Lady Whosits and the empty pantry?" Jack asked. "You know, I’m surprised I remember these. Funny the things that stick in your head."

"Mmm hmm." Daniel muttered.

"I believe DanielJackson is attempting to rest." Teal'c pointed out. "Should we not leave him?"

"Nah. Daniel can sleep through a train wreck. Let's see. Oh, I know! Have you heard the one about Handsome and Greta?"

"I have not."

"The one with the gingerbread house and the witch? You haven't heard this?"

"I do not recall such a tale."

"Oh, this one is good. So there were these kids who ate too much. I mean, really packed it away. Well their family was poor and the parents couldn't afford to feed them."

Daniel sighed quietly to himself and tried to tune out the sound of Jack's creative retelling of fairy tales wondering how he had ever gotten on the subject in the first place. As Janet had promised, his fever had broken days ago and he was feeling quite a bit better, but simple things like a few minutes of chess or a conversation of nearly any length with Jack still wore him out fairly easily. He was weak and continually exhausted, but was feeling well enough to be getting restless, working his way toward bored during the periods when he was awake long enough to notice time passing. Day in and day out it was always the same room with the same scenery and the same routine of drugs and bandage changes. 

Janet had removed the stitches from most of his smaller injuries that morning leaving him with nearly half the number he'd had. Most of the remaining ones were in his shoulder and stomach. Bit by bit he was inching his way back to being a normal human rather than someone's science project and was longing for the day when Janet would let him put on a shirt. So far he was still naked from the waist up because she wanted full access to his shoulder and struggling in and out of a shirt once a day would be more pain and hassle than it was worth. He was inclined to agree with the lack of pain part, but he still felt awkward having a steady flow of mainly female infirmary personnel marching in and out of his room with half his body exposed for all to see. OK, so it could have been worse. It could have been his privates hanging out rather than his chest, but he'd always been a bit shy. So sue him. Now that he was awake long enough to be aware of the number of people in his room on an average day it was bothering him.

Jack was halfway through is version of Hansel and Gretel when Janet appeared.

"Colonel." She greeted in a slightly reprimanding tone.

"Hey, Doc." He replied, ignoring it.

"I thought I told you to keep the noise down in here so Daniel can sleep."

"Oh he's not sleeping." Jack assured her. "He's just faking it."

"Some people might take that as a hint." She replied.

"Hey, Daniel?" Jack called a bit more loudly than necessary. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Would be quieter." Daniel replied.

"See." Jack said. "He's fine."

"Well since you're here I could use your opinion on these stitches in his shoulder." Janet shrugged. "Captain Miller was a bit concerned by them, but I think they're doing well enough. I could use a third pair of eyes if you're not too busy. You know, just for confirmation."

Daniel could feel the sheet brush against his skin and opened his eyes as she uncovered his still bandaged shoulder. He suspected she was kidding about the concern over his shoulder just to get rid of Jack and buy him some peace and quiet, but the serious expression on her face left him uncertain. Maybe she wasn't kidding after all. Maybe Captain Miller really did think there was something wrong with it.

"I'm going to remove the drainage tube so it would be the perfect time." She added.

"Actually, I've, uh, got a thing with Hammond." Jack replied, Daniel shifting his attention to him at the sudden and very obvious tension in his tone. "Maybe T can help you or I guess you can wait until I get back."

"I would be happy to offer my assistance." Teal'c replied as Jack disappeared from the room with barely a wave.

"Thank you, Teal'c, but that's not necessary." She smiled. "His shoulder is just fine. He does, however, need his rest."

Daniel heaved a small sigh of relief.

"I really am going to remove the tube, though. You are welcome to stay if you'd like."

"I would not." Teal'c replied. "I will visit you again at a later time, DanielJackson."

"Bye, Teal'c." Daniel yawned.

Janet smiled to herself as she gingerly removed the gauze taped to Daniel's skin.

"Was the Colonel here long?" She asked.

"For a little more than two fairy tales." He replied.

"Fairy tales?"

"He was bringing Teal'c up to speed on Mother Goose."

"Huh. Sometimes there's just no telling with him. This looks pretty good, Daniel." She commented, his shoulder finally exposed to the open air.

Daniel glanced over at it unable to make out very many details without his glasses.

"I'll just pop this thing out and you'll have one less piece of tubing attached to you, what do you think about that?" 

He glanced at her anxiously as he nodded.

"Don't worry." She smiled down at him. " You won't feel a thing. I'm just going to cut a couple of stitches and slide it right out."

"Ok." He answered uncertainly.

"So, other than noisy neighbors keeping you awake, how are you feeling?" she asked as she worked.

"Better. Still tired, though."

"Any headaches?"

"Sometimes."

"How about dizziness or nausea?"

"No."

"Having any trouble breathing?"

"No."

"Well, I can tell you from my point of view you're making excellent progress." She assured him. "All done." She announced.

"Really?" he asked, glancing back at his shoulder.

"Really." She said. "I'd show you the tube, but you probably don't want to see it. I think you're finally healed up well enough to start a little light physical therapy." She added. "Just some stretching you can do in bed to get your muscles used to working again. When you feel strong enough you can start to venture away from your bed a little and we can finally get rid of your catheter."

"Can we start today?" he asked eagerly, only partly joking.

"I've got someone scheduled to start with you tomorrow." She smiled. "Is that soon enough?"

"I guess."

"Good. Then let's finish here and you can get some rest." She replied tearing open the packaging to a clean gauze pad.

 

xxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel eased himself over the edge of the bed, legs that hadn't touched the ground in nearly two weeks inching toward the floor.

"Good. Now just sit there for a few minutes and let your body get used to being upright again." His physical therapist, a woman named Shelly, advised. "How does that feel?"

"Kind of strange." He admitted.

"Any dizziness?"

"No."

"Good, then why don't you go ahead and slide all the way to the floor." She advised standing at his side lightly gripping his good arm. "I don't want you to go anywhere yet. Just try standing for a minute and see how that feels."

Daniel nodded as his feet finally touched the floor, the promise of life without a catheter prodding him on. Shelly had been working with him for several days, stretching the muscles in his legs as he lay in bed, working him toward the moment when he would rejoin the ranks of his fellow humans who could walk themselves across the floor with ease. He stood by the bed, leaning back against it, bare feet pressing into the cold and very solid floor. He had assumed after a minute or two of getting reacquainted with the concept of being vertical he'd be ready to shuffle laps around the room. However, the moment his feet hit the floor he could feel the strength pouring out of him, the mere act of standing draining him much more quickly than he had expected. To his disappointment his legs began to shudder after only a few minutes as the muscles struggled to hold him upright. 

"Good. Very good." Shelly encouraged enthusiastically. "Why don't you sit down for a minute and rest." 

Daniel scooted back onto the bed, wiggling his hips until his feet were off the floor. He sat bracing himself against his good arm, breathing heavily from the minimal effort, annoyed with the prospect of having to wait at least another day before he could even attempt to actually walk anywhere. 

"Takes a bit more work than you were expecting, huh?" Shelly said, reading his expression. "You've been off your feet for a long time, Daniel. It's going to take a while to get back in the swing of things. Remember, you might be feeling better, but your body is still healing and that takes a lot of energy."

Daniel nodded, eyes on the floor.

"Ready to try again?" she asked, his head immediately coming up. "You didn't think you were done for the day, did you? I'm here to give you a work out, not a demonstration. On your feet." She ordered, smiling when his expression brightened.

Shelly hadn't been kidding about the workout. By the time she was done he was drenched in sweat, his legs and back aching. He was disappointed that it had taken only twenty minutes to get him to that point, but confident that she wasn't going to waste any time getting him back in shape. He'd be without the stupid catheter in a matter of days and back with his team in no time. 

Settled back in bed, Daniel attempted to stay awake long enough for the next new phase in his recovery: lunch. Janet had started him on a liquid diet in an effort to get his digestive system back on track as well. However, the thought of cream of rice cereal and jello wasn't enough to keep him from dozing off and he was fast asleep by the time the tray arrived.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel sat on the seat of the chest press machine in the base gym, struggling to push the twenty-pound weight just one more time. 

"Come on. You can do it." Shelly said. "Last one. Come on, Daniel. Don't quit on me. You can do this."

Arms trembling, every muscle in his body straining, Daniel finally coaxed one last repetition out of himself to complete the set before collapsing. His shoulder aching from the effort, he sat panting on the seat, head hung, but quite happy with himself.

"Excellent." Shelly beamed. "Very good, Daniel. Keep this up and you'll be back to active duty in no time."

It was nearing the end of his second week in physical therapy, daily sessions working him back into shape in record time, as much at his insistence as anyone's. SG-1 was currently functioning with a borrowed team member and was scheduled to return from their second mission without him that afternoon. As always, the business of the SGC continued whether he was present or not, but he hated the thought of being left behind. It was his team and he wanted to be out there with them. 

 

It had been almost a month since the accident. His stitches were out, he was back on solid food, had been disconnected from all the machines and tubes and transferred from the infirmary to temporary quarters on base. Aside from the reduced function of his shoulder and the fact that he still wore himself out relatively easily he was basically back to normal. He wanted to get back to work. Unfortunately, for the time being he was still on medical leave. He might have been in better shape than he had been four weeks ago, but keeping up with a field unit was still out of his reach.

"Ok, Pal, no napping." Shelly said when she decided he had rested long enough. "Let's give the arm a rest and hit the treadmill."

With a tired nod he slid off the chest press seat and headed for the motorized contraption across the room.

"Give me half a mile. Then you can quit." She instructed.

Daniel programmed the machine and started walking, increasing the speed to a pace a little faster than normal. Plodding steadily along, the prescribed half mile came and went, but Daniel kept going. At half a mile a day it was going to take him forever to get up to the average ten miles his team usually wandered on a mission and he didn't want to wait that long. As far as he was concerned if he wanted to be ready for active duty any time in the next six months he needed to be doing more than he was doing. He had always pushed himself harder than normal both mentally and physically and didn't see any reason to make an exception in this case. Jaw set, he forced himself to keep going knowing both Shelly and Janet would protest that he was pushing himself too hard, expecting too much, and telling himself he didn't care.

As he approached a full mile he could feel the exhaustion tugging at him, sweat pouring from his body. Still he shuffled along determined to finish a mile, coaxing himself to go "just a little further". He had just cleared eight tenths of that mile when Shelly appeared at his side to check on him.

"Hey!" She snapped reaching across the console and hitting the button to reduce his speed. "I said half a mile, not a mile and a half."

"I'm fine." He argued, panting. "I want to keep going."

"What did I tell you when we started this?" She lectured looking up at him with a disapproving scowl firmly in place, the machine adding several inches to his height. "This is my space. When you're here you play by my rules." 

"But I feel fine." He continued to protest as she reached over and reduced his speed even further. "I can do it."

"Yeah, well you don't look fine. Your skin is flushed and you're sweating buckets." She informed him. "You're pushing yourself too hard, Daniel and if you keep this up you're going to crash. Then we'll have to start all over. Is that what you want?"

He shook his head, scowling at the machine as she reached over and hit the stop button bringing him instantly to a halt. Without another word she reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist to check his pulse.

"You're way over your target rate." She said. "Another few minutes and I'd have been picking you up off the floor and wouldn't Dr. Frasier have just loved that." Shelly let out a heavy sigh. "Are you dizzy?" she asked.

Daniel shook his head.

"Daniel, look at me." She requested her tone growing softer as she reigned in her frustration. "Are you dizzy?" She repeated, obviously not having believed his original answer, attempting to confirm her suspicions by studying his face.

"A little." He muttered.

"Ok. Let's head over to the table. I want to work on your shoulder for a few minutes."

With a hand gently gripping his upper arm Shelly led him over to the massage table on the far side of the room and watched as he stretched out on it at her instruction, Daniel resisting the urge to jerk his arm out of her grasp. 

"Just rest for a few minutes. I'll be right back." She said disappearing briefly before returning with a towel, a small bottle of massage oil and a full sports bottle. "Room still spinning?" she asked, looking down at him.

"No."

"Alright. Let's sit you up and see what that does."

With some effort he managed to get himself into a sitting position, the room twirling slightly as he did.

"How about now?" she asked, watching him closely.

"A little." He admitted sullenly.

"Here. Drink this." She instructed handing him the sports bottle.

Daniel took a swallow of what he immediately recognized as orange flavored sports drink.

"And I would imagine you're going to need these." Shelly added handing him two Ibuprofen pills.

"Thank you."

"Alright. Shirt off." She instructed in her normal tone of voice, pushing aside her annoyance, Daniel attempting to do the same.

With his upper half bare, she coated her hands with massage oil and started to work on his shoulders and neck, giving special attention to his still healing arm. Her touch was firm, but gentle as she worked on his thin frame, a body that had never been overly muscular now even thinner, having dropped a noticeable amount of mass during his recovery.

"I know you're anxious to get back to your unit, Daniel." She said, her tone as gentle as her hands. "I understand that you don't want to be left behind, but you can't rush this. You might look like you're put back together, but your body is still healing. You will get there. I promise you that, but you don't bounce back from this amount of damage over night."

"It hasn’t been 'over night'." He complained. "It's been a month. A whole month and I'm still barely making a half mile."

"You're not looking at the whole picture." She said gently. "Four weeks ago you were in pieces barely hanging on to life. Three weeks ago you had a high fever and couldn't stay awake for more than ten minutes at a time. Two weeks ago you could barely stand. Now you're able to lift eight pounds with your arm, you can do ten reps on the chest press and you can walk a half a mile. That's amazing progress, Daniel." Shelly assured him. "You've come an incredibly long way in a month."

Daniel sat staring at the floor as she knelt on the table behind him, her attention on his injured shoulder. He grunted quietly as she slowly rotated it in the socket.

"Does that hurt?" She asked to which he nodded. "How about here?" she asked, probing at a spot in front.

"A little."

"Might be a bit inflamed." She admitted. "Let's put some ice on it then we'll see what the Ibuprofen does. Do me a favor and take it easy on this today, alright?"

He nodded.

"I'm serious." Shelly warned as she pulled an ice pack from a small freezer nearby and grabbed an ace bandage from a drawer near the sink. "If this gets worse we're going to have to lay off it altogether until it settles."

"Ok."

Holding the pack to his shoulder Shelly quickly wrapped the ace bandage around him securely pinning the cold gel to his body. The task finished she paused, standing in front of him with a hand rested on each of his knees.

"Hey." She said, ducking her head to catch his gaze. "We'll get you there. I promise. Just take my advice and go slow."

Daniel nodded again.

"I think we're done for today so…in the chair." She said nodding toward the empty wheelchair by the door.

This was the part he hated the most and had been arguing with her about since the first day. She insisted on rolling him out of the gym rather than letting him walk. Half the time he was too tired to have shuffled his way across the complex to his room anyway, but pride insisted he at least try. Shelly, however, was more interested in rebuilding his body than injuring his pride so for the time being she worked him hard and then wheeled him out. 

Knowing a protest would do no good at all Daniel settled himself in the chair, legs trembling slightly and a dark mood settling over him. Head cradled in one hand, he sat in silence as she pushed him down the hall toward the elevator, escorting him one floor down and stopping just outside the door of his temporary quarters.

"Remember," Shelly cautioned as he got to his feet "take it easy on that shoulder. You can take the ice pack off in another ten minutes. Then use the heating pad on it, alright?"

"Ok." He muttered. "Thank you." He added not wanting to be impolite as he closed the door behind him leaving her alone in the hall.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Janet strolled down the hall toward Daniel's quarters and knocked on the door. It was her last stop of the day before she headed home. Shelly had come by her office earlier that afternoon to give her a report on his progress. Physically he was coming right along. Mentally he was slipping. 

Like every injured soldier she had ever met he wanted to be back in shape immediately if not sooner. He was feeling better and wanted to get back in the swing of things. Unfortunately his body wasn't really up to that yet. However, despite still being very much on the mend Daniel was a man who thrived on pushing himself too hard and when he got frustrated he only pushed harder. 

According to Shelly he was annoyed with his slow, though steady progress and that annoyance was beginning to weigh him down. When she had left him earlier that day he had been in the first stages of a deep, blue funk. Depression was a normal part of the recovery process. One that usually struck during the most critical stage when the body was beginning to respond to the workload, but was still very fragile. She had been expecting it and like every other symptom she took it seriously. 

"Come in." A muffled voice replied to her knock and Janet pushed open the door, a cheerful smile firmly in place.

"Hi, Daniel." She greeted stepping into the room and instantly assessing the situation by what she saw.

As she'd expected he was settled in front of the computer, the screen of his laptop aglow, his desk a jumble of the books, files and papers of the few small projects she had allowed him. A heating pad was draped over his injured shoulder, the cord snaking its way over to the wall socket nearby offering proof that he wasn't completely ignoring Shelly's instructions. A pile of wadded up ace bandage sat on the end of his bed along with the abandoned ice pack. His garbage can was settled nearby on the floor with a tied up garbage bag tucked away at the bottom being slowly covered by crumpled wads of paper. The tray of food she had sent down to him as a hint that he needed to eat sat hardly touched on top of his dresser and suddenly she knew the story behind the knotted bag at the bottom of his garbage can.

"Hi." Daniel greeted wearing an expression of mild annoyance, the same one he always wore when being distracted from something he would rather not be distracted from.

"I just came down to see how you were doing." She said, closing the door behind her. "Shelly said you had a rough session today."

"A little." He admitted, gaze dropping to the floor in a motion that said he didn't really want to talk about it. However, Janet did.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, struggling to assess him in the dim light.

"Fine."

"Mmm hmm." She replied unconvinced as she moved closer to him. "How's your shoulder?"

"Ok."

"Still sore?"

"A little."

"How long have you had the heating pad on it?"

"I don't know." He said, glancing over at it. "I wasn't really paying attention."

Janet lifted it up and tugged gently at the collar of his shirt to find the skin underneath pleasantly pink.

"Probably long enough." She concluded turning it off.

"Any dizziness?"

"No."

"Are you still nauseous?" She asked watching as his face folded into a confused scowl. "The half eaten lunch and the tied up bag in the trash." She said, solving the mystery of how she'd known about his previously unmentioned upset stomach.

"Not really." He admitted. 

"How many times did you throw up?"

"Twice."

"No fever." She said briefly resting a hand on his forehead. "OK, so now that we've established you're still in relatively good health, how's the rest of you?"

"Fine." He replied.

"Care to try again?" She said. "I hate to break it to you, Daniel, but I know you too well to fall for that."

She watched as he twitched her a half hearted smile and slowly got up from his chair on obviously unsteady legs. He settled again at the table motioning her toward the other vacant chair.

"What's going on?" she asked gently as she sat down across from him.

"I didn't think it would take this long." He admitted.

"The body has an amazing ability to heal itself," she replied, "but it works slowly. You’ve got to give yourself time."

"I know. I just…I feel…trapped. I can't get back to real life until I'm better and I'm not getting better fast enough. I want to get out and do things. Breathe real air. I haven't seen my apartment in a month. I haven't seen anything in a month. I've only been in my office long enough to notice at least a dozen projects stacked up on my desk that I can't touch. I just…I want my life back."

"I know you do." She said. "I wish I could tell you I was going to release you for active duty tomorrow, but I can't. Even if I let you try, at this point you wouldn't make it very far. Assuming you could find the energy to actually get suited up, I think we both know you'd collapse in a heap as soon as you stepped through the wormhole. You're just not ready yet, Daniel."

He nodded miserably.

"But that doesn't mean you have to sit here bored out of your mind and suffering from what sounds like a bad case of cabin fever. How about a compromise?"

"What kind of compromise?"

"You take it easy on your body, following Shelly's instructions to the letter and I'll give you a day pass to leave the base."

"Really?" He asked, brightening a little.

"When your team gets back you can take a field trip somewhere, get out and see something other than the SGC, breathe some air. How does that sound?"

"That would be great." He replied.

"In the meantime," she continued, "I would suggest adding a few more lights in here so it doesn't feel so much like a cave. Spend some time around other people. Hang out in the Control Room, go to the commissary, get reacquainted with your office." She suggested.

"I thought my office was off limits?"

"It was, but if you keep up your end of the bargain I'll put you on restricted duty." 

"Thank you!" He grinned.

"You're welcome." She smiled back. "But no overdoing it. I want you getting plenty of rest and absolutely no caffeine. I catch you in your lab in the middle of the night or pulling one of those sixteen hour days you're so famous for and I'll put you right back on leave."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Now I'll send down some food your stomach might find a little more appealing." She said getting to her feet.

"I can get it." He protested.

"You've had enough exercise for today." She argued. "Besides, I doubt your legs would get you even half way there and finding you in a heap on the floor anywhere in the complex will automatically land you back in my infirmary. Understood?"

"Yes." He sighed.

"Why don't you lie down and rest for a while."

"I can't sleep." He admitted quietly.

"At all or just this afternoon?" She asked, concerned as she settled back in her chair.

"That's not quite true." He amended. "I can sleep, just not much."

"The dreams still?"

Daniel nodded. He'd been having nightmares about explosions, goa'uld attacks and the rest of his team being in mortal danger for well over a week. Horrible dreams that woke him in the middle of the night on an annoyingly regular basis. 

"You should have told me."

"I didn't want you to send me to Mental Health." He admitted sheepishly.

"That wouldn't be a bad idea, but I can't force you to go." She replied. "What I can do is give you something to help you sleep."

"Thank you."

"Any time." She smiled, getting to her feet. "I'll be back."

 

xxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel sat on a padded wooden deck chair, his face turned toward the sun. Eyes closed, he soaked in the warmth, relishing the smell of fresh air tinged with the scent of Jack's own special brand of barbecue. The original plan had been pizza and beer, but the last thing Daniel wanted to do was sit inside. Not when there was a perfectly good spring day unfolding outside. 

As promised Janet had given him a day pass to spend time with his team, an idea they had jumped at nearly as eagerly as he had. They were overdue for a group session of much needed, if very brief, R&R. The trauma of the horrific explosion in the temple still clung to them like the fresh scars on Daniel's body. He might not remember anything that had happened that day, but they did. What they needed was a few hours together to prove to themselves that eventually things would return to normal. No matter what had happened they were still the same group of friends they had always been and once Daniel healed they would slide right back into the old routine. 

"Here you go, Daniel." Sam said, interrupting his sun worship with a glass of iced tea.

"Thank you." He replied, squinting up at her as he took the glass.

"Do you need anything else?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Janet says she'll probably release you for active duty in a couple of weeks." She said, pulling a chair up next to his.

"That's the rumor."

"Are you nervous?"

"No, just anxious to get back to work. I feel like I've been on leave forever."  
Turning his attention from the wonderful ball of heat in the sky, Daniel looked over at his team-mate, watching as she nodded, inspecting the open bottle of beer she was turning around and around in her hands.

"Are you? Nervous, I mean?" He asked.

"Maybe a little." She admitted.

"Janet won't release me until Shelly is sure I'm 100%." He assured her. "Don't worry. I won't go if I'm just going to be in the way."

"No, that's not what I meant." She said, meeting his gaze. "I guess I'm still a little anxious about what happened. I don't ever want to see you like that again." She reached over and rested a hand on his arm. "I'd rather have you off the team than go through that again. I mean…not that I don't want you on the team, Daniel, it's just…"

"I know what you mean." He nodded. 

"You looked pretty bad." She said quietly. "I didn't think Janet was going to be able to put you back together. Not this time. I just didn’t see how…"

"But she did." He said, ducking his head to recapture her gaze. "I'm here. I'm fine…well, pretty much. I'll admit, parts of me still look a little torn up, but they'll heal."

"Everybody comfy over here?" Jack asked, striding across the deck with a two-pronged barbecue fork in one hand and an open beer in the other. A tattered apron with the words "Kiss the Cook" printed on the front hung around his neck. 

"Very." Daniel replied, squinting up at him.

"Carter?"

"We're fine, Sir. Just talking."

"I can see that, but this is a barbecue, not a wake. So can the serious stuff."

"Yes, Jack." Daniel smiled, giving Sam's hand a squeeze. "Can I, uh, have one of those?" He asked, nodding toward Jack's rapidly disappearing beer.

"No, you can not." Jack snapped. 

"You're going to make a man in my fragile condition suffer with iced tea?" He complained.

"Yep. Doc's orders." Jack nodded, taking another swallow. "Oh don't give me that. You don't like this stuff anyway." He added when he lowered the bottle to find himself staring at a very sad pair of blue eyes.

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too. How many beers have I had sitting in your house, Jack?"

"I don't know. How many beers have you actually finished in my house, Daniel?" He replied.

"That's not the point."

"Yes it is."

"You can have some of mine." Sam offered.

"No, he can't." Jack snapped.

"Since when did you become the SGC hall monitor?" Daniel asked.

"Since Doc Frasier threatened me with an enema if you came back anything other than well rested and completely sober."

"She knows you too well, Sir." Sam grinned.

"She ought to by now, considering the number of times she's given me the old 'turn your head and cough' routine." He replied draining the last of his beer. "Think I'll get another." He announced. "More iced tea, Daniel?" 

"No. Thank you." 

"Are you sure? I've got a whole pitcher of the stuff with your name on it."

"Gee, you shouldn't have."

"Never let it be said I wasn't a good host." He grinned disappearing back inside the house.

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating, talking, laughing and renewing their bond as teammates and friends. They stayed outside until the sinking sun took most of the warmth with it leaving a chill in the air, forcing them to move the party indoors. 

"I hate to break this up, kids, but it's 19:30." Jack announced, the sky dark and most of the food gone.

"Already?" Sam consulted her watch.

"This has been most enjoyable, O'Neill." Teal'c smiled.

"Glad you had a good time, T. Feel free to stay and help clean up. I, on the other hand, have to get Daniel back to the base."

"Already?" Daniel echoed Sam's remark.

"Yep. Come on, Danny Boy, on your feet." He ordered, offering a hand to help him off the couch.

"It's still early."

"Not for you. The pass expires at 20:00 hours and don't think Frasier won't be checking."

"Good night, Daniel." Sam offered, giving him a gentle hug followed by a kiss on the cheek.

"Night, Sam."

"You coming, Teal'c?" Jack asked.

"I am."

"Carter, you can hang out and clean up or make yourself scarce. Your choice. I'll be back in a bit." Jack informed her. "Lock up if you leave. Come on, Daniel." He prodded, handing Daniel his jacket and ushering him to the door. "Let's get a move on. We'll do this again when you don't have a curfew."

"See ya, Sam." Daniel waved from the door.

"Stop stalling." Jack groused, pushing him gently out onto the porch.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ah, another recon mission to a deserted planet." Jack announced pleasantly as the crowd gathered in the gate room, technicians and soldiers milling about. "You can almost smell the excitement in the air."

With a familiar clank, rumble and grind the stargate began spinning out an address, briefly capturing the attention of the team waiting at the base of the ramp.  
Daniel stood adjusting the straps on his well loaded pack, settling it on his shoulders. Despite having been off rotation for just over three months the weight felt very familiar, almost comforting in an odd kind of way. Finally things would be getting back to normal, or at least the twisted kind of normal they were used to.

"The MALP showed no signs of life so this should be a quiet one." Sam said.

"We can hope." Jack replied as the wave of energy billowed out to them in a motion that even after four years could still be awe inspiring. At least it was when they actually took the time to notice it. "Ok, I've got my sun block and my P-90." He announced. "Looks like we're set. Let's move out, kids."

With the order given the group strode toward the shimmering event horizon, the clomping of boots on the ramp trailing behind them before the sound was swallowed up as one by one they disappeared through the gate.


End file.
